


Before China (nothing gold can stay)

by strange_h3arts



Series: Resurrect Me [1]
Category: James Bond (Craig movies), Skyfall (2012) - Fandom
Genre: 00Silva, Angst, Developing Relationship, M/M, Pre-Skyfall, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-08
Updated: 2013-03-08
Packaged: 2017-12-04 16:57:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/712993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/strange_h3arts/pseuds/strange_h3arts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>People change.<i></i></i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Before China (nothing gold can stay)

It’s 1995 when they meet for the first time.

Tuesday morning, and James is down at the firing range practicing his aim with a standard-issue Beretta. Two of his shots graze the shoulder of the human-shaped target, but the last one hits it straight in the heart. James grins. He’s getting better. He’s been undergoing field training for almost a year now, and it seems to be paying off: so far MI6 has sent him on three missions. True, they were excruciatingly boring-- simple information acquisition; no need to hone his marksmanship skills -- but nevertheless, he was making a name for himself.  

James turns the safety off and lowers his goggles, deeming himself finished for the day. Next, he has to sort through a pile of paperwork for M... James groans to himself as he leaves the firing range, dreading the hours of number-crunching to follow. This is one of the downsides of being a lower-ranking agent.

James stows his gun in the locker room and straightens his tie, glancing at his own reflection on the mirrored wall. Not bad, James thinks to himself, smoothing down an unruly tuft of sandy blonde hair. His pale blue eyes are a bit bloodshot, but then again he _had_ gone out last night. He probably could have exercised a bit more restraint with the liquor.

Satisfied with his appearance, James shuts his locker and proceeds to walk down the hall to his office, humming tunelessly.

As he rounds a corner, suddenly an imposing figure steps out in front of him, purposefully blocking his way. James halts abruptly and appraises the other agent standing before him, one eyebrow rising quizzically.

The man is tall and broad-shouldered, with tanned skin and strong-looking hands. His longish hair is dark brown and curls lightly over the collar of his suit jacket, looking rakish yet somehow polished. The eyes are dark and friendly, if slightly heavy-lidded. James notes that the agent’s nose appears to have been broken before, but it suits him.

“James, is it?” the stranger asks in a pleasantly formal voice that carries the hint of a lilting accent. He stands casually, leaning lightly against the wall with a slight smile on his face. He isn’t wearing a tie and his shirt is slightly opened at the neck, highlighting the strong line of his jaw. _Expensive suit_ , James surmises. He must be a senior agent, although he barely looks a day over 25.

James furrows his brow, trying to place a name to the face. And then he remembers.  “You’re… double-oh nine, correct?”

“Yes,” 009 grins, his eyes crinkling up appealingly at the corners. “Rodriguez. You can call me Tiago.”

Tiago extends a palm and James takes it, noting that the other agent’s handshake is firm and warm. “Well. Nice to meet you, Tiago,” James nods, not exactly sure of what to make of the man. He recalls hearing that Rodriguez had achieved 00 status about six months ago, making him one of the youngest double-oh’s in MI6 history.

Most senior agents had never looked his way, let alone spoken to him, and James is surprised that Tiago had approached him at all. James was beginning to think that he’d never achieve that level of aloof authority.

“I saw you at the firing range,” Tiago continues amicably, and James wonders what the hell he wants from him. Double-oh’s are nothing more than cold-blooded murderers, and James knows this well. Of course, there’s a certain allure to this, but it makes James doubt the sincerity of Tiago’s friendly appearance.

“Did you?” James replies haltingly, the mistrust obvious on his face. Tiago sees right through him and grins, lowering his eyes and shaking his head slowly.

“Yes. And I just wanted to tell you… you should really work on your aim. That second-to-last shot was abysmal,” Tiago smirks, barely unable to contain his glee at James’s utterly confused expression.

“Duly noted,” James mumbles, a slight flush creeping up at the back of his neck. _Piss off_ , he thinks.

“Kidding, kidding!” Tiago raises his hands in a show of repentance. “It actually wasn’t bad, overall. If you want, I can pass on a word to your supervisor-- Brooks, right?”

“You would? That would be… very kind of you,” James says sheepishly, somewhat ashamed at having taken offense so easily.

“Sure,” Tiago says casually, his brown eyes flashing with good humor. “Well… pleasure to meet you, James.” He turns away with an unreadable smile on his face and continues down the hallway at a leisurely pace, each of his steps perfectly fluid.

James stares at him in incomprehension. _What just happened?_

00

Over the next month or so, Tiago pops up everywhere. James catches glimpses of him almost daily in different parts of MI6: in the weight room, the firing range, and most of all, the computer lab. As James enters data into the server on one of the desktops, he can’t help but glance across the room at Tiago’s unmistakable form hunched over his own computer. The expression on the senior agent’s face is a strange mixture of intensity and child-like glee, his fingers flying over the keyboard at a seemingly impossible speed. James smirks and turns away, recalling that Tiago has garnered the well-deserved reputation of being MI6’s best hacker.

A week after their first meeting at the firing range, James runs into Tiago in a small coffee shop just outside of MI6 headquarters. James gives him a small nod, unsure whether to start of a conversation with the man. Tiago simply beams and gives him a little wave as he walks out the door, steaming cup of coffee in hand.

Two weeks after that, when he spots the agent buying a magazine at a newsstand suspiciously nearby his own flat, James begins to question whether Tiago might be following him.

The last straw is when Tiago plops his tray down in front of James in the MI6 cafeteria, casually pulling up a chair as if it was completely normal for them to eat lunch together. James just stares at him, his mouth full of sandwich. Swallowing, he narrows his eyes suspiciously and voices what’s been on his mind for days:

“Why do I keep seeing you everywhere? Don’t try to tell me that you haven’t been following me.”

Tiago throws his head back and laughs, obviously amused. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to be-- well, never mind. I guess I just wanted to get to know you better,” he admits, his accent lending his words an exotic inflection.

Surprised at the candidness of his response, James leans back precariously in his chair and raises an eyebrow. “What’s a double-oh like you want with an agent like me?”

“Hey, I was at your rank too once,” Tiago smiles, taking a bite from his apple. “I know what it’s like. Don’t worry; you’ll make it. Eventually,” he adds, chewing.

“So you say,” James muses darkly, sipping his water bottle. “That is, if I don’t suffocate under this mountain of paperwork first.”

Tiago chuckles, an unexpectedly pleasant sound to James’s ears. “They do that to weed out the weak ones. If you can survive M’s filing, being a double-oh will be a piece of cake.”

James smiles despite himself. “Is it worth it? Achieving double-oh, I mean.”

Tiago pauses, weighing the options of his response. “Hmm. I’d say it is. You suddenly have this --this license to kill, and it makes you feel incredibly powerful. Not to mention the travel. But it does have its downsides. You become… desensitized. You’re a murderer, essentially. At first it was really hard to wrap my head around that,” Tiago muses, taking a bite of chicken.

James nods, a bit taken aback by Tiago’s honesty. “I think I can do it. At least, I hope I can.”

“Oh, sure. Anyone can _achieve_ double-oh… the question is, can you survive it without losing your mind?” Tiago smirks, but his words obviously carry a hint of truth.

“I guess we’ll have to see then, won’t we?”

00

They end up talking for another half an hour, until James’s lunch break is over.

“Shit, I’ve got to go,” James mutters, glancing at his watch.

“They are a bit stingy with their breaks around here, aren’t they?” Tiago drawls, stretching languorously in his seat.

“Unfortunately. So, I’ll see you around, then?” James replies, picking up his lunch tray somewhat regretfully.

“Sure, sure.” Tiago says casually, straightening his jacket collar. Suddenly he looks up, his face brightening as if struck by a novel idea. “Hey... want to grab a drink later?”

“That would be nice,” James says with some surprise. He would never refuse a drink, but he hadn’t expected Tiago to be so overtly friendly with him.

“All right. Uh… how about that place down the street?”

“Yeah, that’s good. 8?” James replies after a second of thought. He doesn’t want to seem too eager, but he can’t help thinking that spending a little time with Tiago wouldn’t be too bad for his prospects as a double-oh.

“See you then,” Tiago smiles. He picks up his tray and walks away, leaving James -as always- to ponder his true motivations.

00

Several hours later James gets off work and goes back to his flat before meeting up with Tiago. He washes his face and changes into a more casual button-down shirt, feeling slightly nervous for some reason. Although he was initially suspicious of the other agent, now James simply wants to impress him. He wants Tiago to like him; to understand him.

At half-past seven James leaves for the tube station, fiddling with the buttons on his jacket as he waits for the train to arrive. He arrives at the bar just in time, and when he walks in the door he finds that Tiago is already waiting for him.

“James,” Tiago greets him, smiling broadly. He’s wearing dark slacks and a red button-down with the sleeves partially rolled up, exposing a tan pair of toned forearms. James can imagine the coiled strength beneath Tiago’s fitted shirt, and he wonders how many hours of training the other agent has to undergo each week.

“Tiago.” James pulls up a stool beside him, instantly relaxing under the man’s air of nonchalant warmth.

“So, what’s your drink of choice?” Tiago asks casually, leaning an elbow against the thick wooden countertop.

“It depends,” James responds thoughtfully, mentally cataloguing his vast repertoire of alcoholic beverages. “Normally I go for something stronger… but today I think a beer would suffice.”

“Agreed,” Tiago nods, turning to catch the eye of the bartender. “Two black-and-tans.”

“I approve,” James says with a smile.

The beers come and James takes a deep draft, savoring the bitter taste of the ice-cold drink. Catching the foam on his upper lip with his tongue, he turns to Tiago and looks at him curiously.

“So, tell me how you came to be in MI6.”

00

They talk for hours. James learns that Tiago is an orphan, like he is, and somehow he finds himself recounting stories of his time in the navy. Tiago listens intently, and reciprocates in full with stories of his childhood in Spain.

James asks for tips on how to become M’s favorite, admitting that he’s never actually spoken to her face-to-face. Tiago tells him not to worry. To her, we all start out unimportant.

They drink an immense quantity of beer, and near the end of the night Tiago insists on taking James back to his apartment to try his favorite traditional drink. _Licor Cuarenta y Tres_ , he calls it. James accepts, hoping to add to the solid buzz he’s got going-- and also a bit curious to see the inside of Tiago’s flat.

Together they walk out into the street, both men slightly unsteady on their feet. The London night is chilly, and James pulls his jacket tightly over himself.

“Let’s not take the tube,” Tiago grins, swiftly hailing a cab with a wave of his hand.

“Fine by me,” James replies, climbing in the back seat next to the other agent.

Tiago gives the name of an apartment complex across town, which James notes is in one of the nicer parts of the city.

The two agents talk quietly the whole way there, Tiago exuding even more casual friendliness after having had several drinks. James notices that one of the buttons on Tiago’s shirt has accidentally come undone, revealing a tiny shrapnel scar that mars the tanned skin of his left collarbone. He feels a strange urge to touch it, and is mildly horrified at the thought. Where did _that_ come from?

The taxi pulls up in front of a nice-looking brick high-rise, and Tiago pays the driver generously as the two men step out on the curb.

Tiago leads him up the stairs to his flat and opens the door, waving James in hospitably.

The apartment is expansive and tastefully decorated, although it doesn’t look very lived-in. James imagines that between his constant stream of missions, Tiago doesn’t get to spend very much time here. Unlike James’s own flat, which is directly beneath that of a screaming two-year old, Tiago’s apartment is pleasantly quiet apart from the muted sounds of traffic outside.

“It’s not much, but it’s enough for me,” Tiago says modestly, leaning against the entry wall.

“No, it’s really nice,” James says, peering around the corner. “Can’t wait to be promoted- maybe then I can afford something a little better than the shit-hole I live in now,” he quips, rolling his eyes.

Tiago chuckles. “Before this, I lived next to a paper mill- now _that_ was rough. I guess being double-oh does have its perks.”

“Don’t rub it in,” James groans, a smirk playing on his lips. “So, how about that drink?”

“Absolutely,” Tiago replies happily, crossing over to the kitchen cabinet to produce a tall bottle of yellowish liquor. “It’s a little different-tasting,” he admits, scooping some ice into two glass tumblers and topping them with a generous amount of the oddly colored liquid. “But I think you’ll like it. Supposedly, it has forty-three types of spice in it,” he adds, offering James a glass.

James accepts it and takes a small sip, the aromatic liquor pleasantly warming the back of his throat. “It’s good,” he says, holding the drink up to the light. “The color is weird, but it’s not bad at all.”

“I’m glad you think so,” Tiago replies with a smile, taking a generous drink from his own glass.

There is an amicable silence.

Seconds pass, and slowly James begins to realize that Tiago is staring at him intently. James turns to face him as the senior agent sets down his tumbler on the marble countertop with a soft click, his face unreadable.

Tiago suddenly edges closer to stand in front of him, his eyes dark and gentle in the muted lighting.

They are close: too close. James slowly lowers his glass, unsure of what to think.

“I’m about to take a chance,” Tiago murmurs quietly, his voice almost tentative.

 And then his hand is resting on James’s cheek, warm and uncertain and incredibly gentle. James inhales sharply, realizing how close they are and how Tiago smells good, like alcohol and aftershave. He can feel the other man’s body heat and can’t help but notice the strength of Tiago’s jaw; the tempting curve of his full lips.

James is frozen as the hand travels down to trace around the dip of his collarbone, the long fingers deft and experienced.

“Tiago…” he finally gets out, his voice sounding strangled even to his own ears.

Tiago just smiles at him, his eyes almost playful. “Yes?”

“I don’t know if this is such a good--”

He breaks off mid-sentence as Tiago hesitantly lines up his body to James’s own, stroking the agent’s arm with a sigh. James can practically feel the pent-up energy radiating off the other agent, and he resists the urge to lean into the touch.

“You are… overthinking this,” Tiago replies gently, his breath warm on James’s face.

Time seems to slow as James reaches out to touch Tiago’s face, eliciting a broad smile from the other agent as he slowly traces the curve of his jawline.

James feels a surreal sense of calm as Tiago wraps a possessive arm around his waist and athletically pulls him down underneath him on the spacious couch, their bodies pressed flush together.

Tiago leans down to kiss him, and then suddenly it hits him. _What the hell does he think he’s doing?_

James stiffens, attempting to push Tiago away with the flat of his palm. “I’m not gay,” he hears himself protest unconvincingly, struggling under the weight of the senior agent.

“Irrelevant,” Tiago grins, leaning in to nip playfully at James’s full lower lip.

James swallows, his throat suddenly unbearably dry. This is… unexpected. He closes his eyes for a moment, willing himself to relax. It’s not that this isn’t his first time, but his past experiences have been less than stellar. He exhales, his head spinning with indecision.

“Hey,” Tiago murmurs, his tone softening. “Hey.” He brushes a hand against James’s cheek, and the agent flutters open his own light blue eyes to meet Tiago’s own, which are warm and brown. “I shouldn’t have… I’m sorry. I can call you a cab if you want me to.” The earlier bravado is gone, and Tiago looks almost bashful.

James pauses, struggling to collect his thoughts, but the warmth and closeness of Tiago’s solid body are distracting, to say the least. The look of shy uncertainty on the senior agent’s face is endearing, and suddenly James feels all the tension leave his body- well, almost all. He is suddenly aware that Tiago’s own muscular hips are wedged tightly against his own, and an unbidden thrill of excitement courses down his spine.

Finally James is able to speak again. “No, it’s-- it’s okay, I wanted it too. I can stay,” he says gently, appreciating the way Tiago’s face lights up at his words. In the spur of the moment he leans in and captures the other agent’s mouth in a soft kiss, savoring the taste of liquor on his full lips.

Tiago hesitates for a moment, surprised at the sudden change in James’s demeanor, but soon he presses back into the kiss with full enthusiasm.

James loses himself in the moment, wanting to explore every inch of Tiago’s body. He clutches a handful of Tiago’s hair and pulls him even closer, relishing the feel of the agent’s muscular chest pressed against his own.

They kiss for what seems like hours, exploring every inch of each other’s bodies like they’re teenagers again. James fights back the urge to exert dominance, allowing Tiago to take control of the kiss and keeping his guard down even as the agent presses his teeth to James’s neck.

When they finally break apart they’re both breathing heavily, and James smirks at the fresh hickey that is darkening on Tiago’s throat.

Tiago fixes James with a meaningful glance, his dark hair hanging tousled in front of his eyes. “Do you want to…?” he trails off, the implications of his words obvious.

“Of course I do, you moron,” James grins, and pounces on him again.

00

James soon learns that Tiago is an incredibly generous lover, and has an uncanny knack for finding all the spots on his body that make him come apart.

Tiago removes James’s shirt with endearing tenderness and pins the agent down on the bed with one muscular forearm, leaning in to press a trail of kisses down James’s toned stomach. Tiago is much stronger than he is, but James doesn’t mind: the senior agent moves with the agility of a dancer.

Tiago unzips James’s pants and unexpectedly presses his face against the growing bulge within, the simultneous friction and hot wash of breath causing the agent to arch his back and moan.

James closes his eyes and exhales sharply as Tiago pulls down his briefs and exposes his already rock-hard cock, wrapping a deft hand around the base and stroking it experimentally. Tiago flicks a calloused thumb over the tip and James can’t help but groan, involuntarily canting his hips into the experienced touch.

And then when Tiago goes down on him, James almost loses it completely. Tiago’s mouth is hot and perfect, and he takes James’s impressive length with no apparent effort on his part. James sees stars when Tiago releases his cock with a muffled moan, only to wrap his bruising lips tightly around the tip and tongue the slit. James is soon jerking helplessly into the wet heat, resisting the urge to grab Tiago by the hair and fuck him senseless.

As Tiago takes every inch of his twitching length deep into his mouth, James quickly realizes that he’s already embarrassingly close to coming. With some measure of regret he taps the other agent on the shoulder to warn him.

“Tiago--” he breaks off in a strangled moan as Tiago’s rough tongue slips out to encircle his head, “--I’m close. I’m so close.”

Tiago releases him with a mournful look and pulls on the base of James’s erection to stave off his climax. “Better?”

James nods. Then Tiago leans in to whisper in his ear, his voice hoarse with arousal: “The way you taste is driving me crazy.” James shudders, his cock jumping at the way his accent colors the words.

Drunk with lust, James crawls atop the other agent and roughly pulls off his bottoms, exposing Tiago’s painfully hard erection. James confidently closes a hand around Tiago’s cock and begins stroking it with gentle pressure, reveling in the way the agent squirms beneath him. Tiago’s skin is hot and silky, and James marvels at how the other agent responds to his touch.

Suddenly possessed by the urge to feel Tiago against him, James rolls his hips downwards and slides his erection against the senior agent’s own, the friction deliciously enhanced by the pre-come spilling from Tiago’s tip. Tiago shudders and moans softly beneath him, closing his eyes and gasping out a broken stream of Spanish curses.

“Look at me,” James whispers, ghosting one hand over Tiago’s chest as he braces himself against the bed with the other. “I want to see you when you come."

Tiago’s eyes flutter open, the pupils blown wide with desire. “ _Mas fuerte_ ,” he chokes out between moans, and James doesn’t know what it means but he wraps a fist tightly around both of their cocks anyways, a groan escaping his lips as waves of pleasure slice through his body.

Tiago spasms beneath him and lets out a strangled shout, his hips jerking erratically and his back arching as he comes hot and wet across James’s stomach. It’s messy and perfect and it pushes James over the edge completely. With a shiver, he feels his balls tighten and then he’s climaxing, his vision blurring with pleasure as his cock pulses wildly against Tiago’s.

Breathing harshly, James collapses against Tiago’s sweaty chest, not caring that his stomach is smeared with the remnants of his own release. He feels Tiago’s cock twitch against him and he smiles, lifting his head to press a kiss on the edge of the agent’s mouth.

Tiago wraps a protective arm around James’s back and sighs, his warm breath ruffling the agent’s hair. James nestles his chin into the crook of Tiago’s neck and closes his eyes, utterly exhausted. Somehow he thinks that Tiago won’t mind if he stays the night.

He’s almost asleep when the hushed murmur of Tiago’s voice brings him back to reality:

“This doesn’t have to mean anything if you don’t want it to.”

James rolls off of Tiago’s chest and looks at him intently, sensing the vulerability written clearly on his face.

“I wouldn’t have slept with you if it meant nothing.”

And it’s true. At this point in his life, James isn’t the type to give himself away with no strings attached. He knows that it’s both a strength and his greatest weakness- it’s either the beginnings of a committed relationship, or the foundations of a broken heart.

Tiago pauses as he processes the implications of James’s words, and eventually he can’t stop the smile that’s growing on his face. He pulls James close again, resting his chin on the crown of the agent’s head.

“Thank you,” he whispers.

They fall asleep like that, entangled in the sheets.

00

James wakes up alone, the flat chilly without Tiago’s solid body beneath him. He rubs his eyes and rolls over on the sheets, glancing in the mirror above Tiago’s dresser. He snorts, realizing that he’s still completely naked and his hair is sticking up ridiculously at the back.

Stretching, James rolls out of bed and scans the room for his clothes, feeling a little disappointed that Tiago isn’t there.

And then he spies his shirt and pants neatly folded on the back of a chair, with a note on top scribbled in Tiago’s scratchy handwriting. 

 _James,_ it reads,

_Sorry I had to go- got called in this morning. There’s coffee and biscuits in the kitchen, and feel free to use the shower._

_I hope we can see each other like this again._

_-Tiago_

James smiles despite himself, a strange feeling of excitement settling over him. He slips the note in his pants pocket. 

00

This is the beginning of something different, something that James has never had before in his life. It’s not a relationship, exactly, but something more intricate- something that can’t be labeled.

They sleep together the next weekend, and the weekend after that. Then Tiago starts coming over to James’s flat every few days or so, just to spend time with him. James is a bit embarrassed at the relative cheapness of his apartment compared to Tiago’s, but the senior agent assures him that it’s perfect.

James begins to realize that it’s something more on the first night that Tiago stays over without sleeping with him. That night is one of the best ones James can remember: in the spur of the moment Tiago decides to cook for him, and together they make a spicy chicken and rice dish that Tiago swears is his grandmother’s best recipe. It _is_ good, and they eat together on James’s couch with the telly on in the background. Somehow they fall asleep like that, and James wakes up still in his clothes with Tiago’s arms wrapped tightly around him.

James doesn’t know exactly what this means, but he doesn’t want it to end.

00

The worst parts are when Tiago’s away.

The first assignment, he’s sent to Malawi to capture the leaders of a notorious drug cartel, and he comes back with a great gash on his chest from the blade of a machete.

James worries the whole time he’s gone, and he makes Tiago promise to call him at least once. The phone finally rings on the second-to-last night, and when James picks it up he instantly detects something different in the agent’s voice. Tiago’s edgy; unhappy-sounding, and James wants nothing more but to fly across the globe and be with him.

Tiago tells him that he can’t sleep when he’s on an assignment- he’s lucky to get a few chance hours every night. When he finally comes back to London and shows up on the doorstep of James’s flat, he has deep, bruise-colored bags underneath his eyes and all the color appears drained from his skin. James holds him tightly, careful not to disturb the gauze that’s covering the mass of stiches on his sternum. “You look like shit,” he whispers, burying his face in Tiago’s hair and letting out a sigh of relief that he still smells like himself.

Tiago’s face breaks into a smile for the first time in two weeks. “I know.”

00

James begins thinks that Tiago is the first person who has every truly understood him, and it scares him. When he’s alone, he can’t help but think about what would happen if Tiago was hurt on a mission, or even… he can’t say it. _Won’t_ say it. He doesn’t want to acknowledge the reality of that possibility, which is so terrifying that it makes his stomach turn to ice.

Sometimes he misses Tiago so much that it physically hurts.

 When they’re both in London they’re inseparable, and James does anything and everything to distract Tiago from his life in MI6. James knows Tiago well enough to sense when he’s at his breaking point, and that’s when they need each other the most.

James’s favorite thing to do is to give Tiago massages after a mission, when his muscles are always knotted and tense from combat. James lies him down on his stomach and works his way up Tiago’s body, from his feet to the top of his neck. He loves the way Tiago relaxes beneath him and makes tiny sighing noises- sometimes, he’ll even fall asleep before James reaches his back.

00

A year after he and Tiago meet, they go on a mission together in Argentina. James wishes he hadn’t. When Tiago kills, he’s a different person: the gentle humor and generosity is replaced by a dead-eyed mania that makes James want to leave and never come back. This stranger- because it can’t be Tiago; it isn’t Tiago- shoots a man point-blank in the face without a second thought, not even flinching when bloodstains spatter the front of his suit jacket.

That night when they fuck, James feels like he’s in bed with someone else. Finally he holds Tiago’s face in his hands and asks him _why._

Tiago stills his hips and meets James’s stare, his eyes soft with affection. “That’s not me,” he murmurs, his face crumpling at the stricken look James gives him. “Don’t ever think that’s me. It has to be that way. I can’t… I can’t let it get to me.”

James accepts the answer and presses a feverish kiss to Tiago’s lips, wanting to capture him. To own him. Tiago senses his urgency and wraps a possessive hand around the back of James’s neck, anchoring them together, if only for the moment.

“I think I’m just afraid of losing you,” James whispers, his voice utterly broken.

They are lost in their own world, momentarily isolated from all the destruction and horror that lies behind him. James thinks that this kind of fragile security must feel a lot like love.

00

December 1996. James can’t remember a time in his life when he’s been happier than he is now.

For the winter holidays he and Tiago take a trip to France, and on New Year’s Eve they watch fireworks bloom across the Paris sky from the balcony of their hotel room. They hold each other tightly, and when James glances up to smile at Tiago he realizes that the agent looks like he’s about to cry.

“What’s wrong?” he asks him softly, his brow furrowing with worry.

“No, nothing’s wrong. It’s just-- I’m just so happy. It’s strange, because I don’t know if I’ve ever felt this happy before, and it makes me…” he trails off, unsure of how to finish.

“It’s okay. I feel it too,” James replies after a pause, squeezing Tiago’s hand tightly.

Suddenly, a great cheer rises up from the streets, and an enormous wave of bottle-rockets shoots into the night. It’s 1997.

“A new year,” Tiago smiles, hugging James even closer to his chest. “What do you think is in store for us?”

James turns to face him, his blue eyes illuminated as the fireworks explode across the sky. “I don’t know. But I want it to be like this,” he murmurs, leaning in to press his lips against Tiago’s own.

They kiss, and James wishes he could stay in this moment forever.

00

March 1997. They’re at Tiago’s flat eating a late dinner together when the call comes.

“It’s M,” Tiago says with a dramatic sigh, glancing at his cell phone. “I hope nothing’s wrong. Just a second.”

He gets up from his seat and flips open the phone, mouthing the word “sorry” to James.

“Hello?” “…Yes, I understand.” James watches Tiago pace across the room. He always does when he talks on the phone.

 “…No, I think I’m ready-- when? Tomorrow?” Tiago’s face grows serious, and James’s stomach tightens.

“…What time?”

“Yes… alright.” Tiago pinches the bridge of his nose with his free hand, a deep crease forming on his brow.

“Good night, M.”

Tiago slowly walks back to the table, his face unreadable.

“What is it?” James asks, not really wanting to know the answer.

“It’s… I’ve been assigned. Tomorrow.”

James looks away, feeling the familiar dread wash over him. “Where?”

“Hong Kong… It shouldn’t be too bad. M says I should be out of there in at least two weeks,” Tiago replies, trying to sound upbeat.

“Okay,” James murmurs, not meeting his eyes. He doesn’t want Tiago to go, but even more so he doesn’t want to worry him.

“I know, I don’t want to go either,” Tiago sighs, sitting back down next to James and taking a sip of his drink. “But unfortunately, they need me... I guess we’ll just have to make the most of this night, huh?”

Tiago gently strokes the back of James’s hand and then flips it over, pressing two fingers into the pulse point on his wrist. “I like to feel your heartbeat,” he explains when James looks up at him with a confused expression.

James can’t help but smile. Tiago could be so funny sometimes.

James reaches a hand over to cup Tiago’s cheek, running a thumb over his full lower lip. When he finally speaks again, he makes sure to keep the sadness out of his voice.

“Come on. Let’s clean this up and go to bed.”

00

That night Tiago wakes up gasping for air, his body tangled in the sheets and his forehead clammy with sweat. James drowsily reaches out a hand to brush Tiago’s cheek, and falters when his hand comes back wet. “What’s wrong?” he whispers, curling his body protectively over Tiago’s.

“I dreamed that I was dead,” Tiago says finally, his voice coming out odd and strangled. “I dreamed that I was dead, and you were all alone. I could see you, but I couldn’t-- couldn’t reach you.” He shudders violently, attempting to slow down his panicked breaths.

“Shh,” James murmurs, laying his head on Tiago’s heaving chest. “You’re not dead. You’re not dead.”

Tiago always has nightmares the night before a new mission, but they tear him apart every time. James absentmindedly kisses the crook of his neck, smiling as the other agent sighs above him. “Go to sleep,” he whispers, his breath tickling the sensitive skin underneath Tiago’s jaw. “I’m here.”

00

The next day Tiago wakes up early to finish packing. James watches him from the bed, a painful knot forming in his chest. They’ll only be apart for two weeks at most, but it always hurts just the same: he knows that he’ll spend every night drinking himself into oblivion, every fiber in his body screaming with tension as he waits for the phone call. The uncertainty of whether Tiago is dead or alive isn’t something he can face sober.

Zipping up his suitcase, Tiago turns to face James with a lopsided grin on his face. “Don’t look so worried,” he says, crossing the room to sit on the edge of the bed. “This isn’t supposed to be dangerous.”

James rests his chin on Tiago’s shoulder and wraps his arms around Tiago’s stomach, pressing the agent’s broad back to his own chest. “I know,” he says finally, trying to sound upbeat but failing miserably.

“Hey,” Tiago murmurs, twisting around to place a soft kiss on the edge of James’s mouth. “It’s okay.”

For a moment they stay like that, James resting his forehead against Tiago’s own.

Then Tiago straightens up with a sigh, furrowing his brow as he glances at his watch. “I wish I could stay here with you. But if I’m going to catch my flight, I’ve got to go.”

“Sure,” James whispers. He swallows the lump in his throat, not wanting Tiago to know how upset he is.

James helps him gather his bags, and together they walk to the front door of the flat.

Tiago pulls him in for a hug, and before they let go James inhales deeply into the other agent’s shoulder, memorizing his scent. Tiago is freshly showered and smells clean, like shampoo and the spicy white soap he likes so much. James smiles as he recognizes the scent of the cologne he gave Tiago for his last birthday.

James pulls away and straightens Tiago’s collar, re-buttoning one of the closures that has come undone at the top of his shirt. “Double oh-nine,” he says, and Tiago smiles, because that’s what James always says when he goes away for a mission.

Tiago takes James’s face in his hands and kisses his forehead lightly, his eyes bright with unbidden emotion.

“James. In two weeks, I’m yours.”

00

James watches Tiago walk down the stairs outside of his flat and into the street, a bounce in his step as he unlocks the black MI6 car that’s waiting for him at the curb. Before he steps inside, Tiago looks up at James in the window, giving him a half-wave and a crooked smile.

Then he turns and opens the door, climbing in and starting the engine. James watches as the car pulls out into the road, getting smaller and smaller as Tiago drives down the narrow London street. It’s getting light outside, and James is able to see the car for a long time until it finally disappears into the fog.

And then he’s gone.


End file.
